


Intermezzo

by Noktuo



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3053390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noktuo/pseuds/Noktuo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set within the events of “Dye! Dye! My Darling”; a classmate drives Jane to Sloane Manor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermezzo

_I kissed your boyfriend. I kissed Tom._

Jane ran down the hallway of Lawndale High, angry tears welling up in her eyes. Turning a corner, she plowed into a petite redheaded girl, knocking her down, then stumbled, and slammed chest first into the drinking fountain.

“Oww! Look where you’re going, Lane!” snarled the redhead. She landed on her coccyx, her papers scattering around her.

“I’m sorry, Becky, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

The redhead ignored first the apology, then Jane’s outstretched hand, and rose stiffly from the floor. The only thing left for Jane to do was pick up a few of the papers and press them into Becky’s thin hands. Becky left without saying another word to her.

Jane stood in the hallway nursing her sore ribs. Some students stared at her, while others flitted past without even looking. She didn’t know which was better.

She broke down. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Jane tried to blink them away, then went into the girls’ restroom, slamming the door behind her with all the force she could muster. Inside, she sobbed audibly, staggered to the nearest sink, turned the faucet on full blast, and began splashing cold water on her face.

A few seconds later, Jane heard the door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. Dawn stomped towards the adjacent sink and started washing her hands.

“I thought you’d knock the door off the hinges,” Dawn commented impassively without looking at Jane.

“So glad you noticed,” Jane hissed through gritted teeth. For several seconds the only sound in the girls’ restroom was water splashing against ceramics. Then Jane noticed Dawn throwing glances her way.

“Wanted to see me crying, Reynolds? You got your wish,” Jane turned towards Dawn with a scowl.

“All I want is to wash my hands,” Dawn shrugged, refusing to take offense, and pushed her ever-present earphones down to her neck. “Need a handkerchief?”

“No thanks,” Jane started pulling paper towels out of the dispenser.

“Jane, you don’t want to use 'em.”

“And why is that?”

Dawn sighed.

“Yesterday Olivia overheard Ms. Li telling Pavlov to collect the used paper towels and iron them for re-use.”

“Bullshit!” Still, Jane threw the flimsy pieces of paper into the wastebasket.

“Think so? I mean, after all, it’s Li we’re talking about.” Dawn fished a handkerchief out of the pocket and held it out. “C’mon, take it, Jane. It’s clean.”

“You just never know with Li,” Jane accepted the proffered napkin to dry her face. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red from crying, and her lips quivered.

“Jane—”

“You heard everything, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh. I’m really sorry. It shouldn't happen like this.”

Jane gritted her teeth. The cool, soft voice of Dawn didn't soothe her one bit.

“I’m not in the mood for small talk, all right?” _Steady, Lane. Steady._

“Yeah, I understand.”

The girls left the restroom together.

“Dawn, I’d better get going,” Jane turned to Dawn.

“Like, outside?”

Jane nodded. “I just can't take it. No school for me today.”

“Want to skip a whole day of classes? Boy, Li'll hit you with Saturday detention!”

“Do I look like I care?”

“You want a ride home?”

Jane considered her options. She could walk—as a matter of fact, she would have liked to run, but her stomach and ribs hurt like hell from the collision with the drinking fountain. She could take Dawn up on her offer, but going home wasn’t what she had in mind.

_The bastard might—just might—be at home . . . Please let him be at home . . ._

_What the hell._

“Umm, okay. Thanks!”

“Hey, Angel! Angelface!” Dawn called out to her friend idling by the lockers. “I think I’m gonna skip algebra today. Tell Mr. Ewing . . . Oh, just tell him Lane here sprained her ankle real bad and I'm driving her home.”

The eyes of shaggy-haired blonde widened in surprise, but Angel limited herself to a noncommittal “Okay, take care.”

Jane smiled. The resident math whiz of Lawndale High, Dawn was the math teacher’s fair-haired girl who could do no wrong in his eyes. His opinion regarding Jane was entirely different, but missing his class was the least of her problems.

* * *

The black Ford Explorer listed to one side under the weight of Dawn. She turned the ignition key and waited for Jane to get inside the SUV and make herself comfortable.

“Dawn, you do live next to Crewe Neck, right?”

“Blackiston Road. Why?”

“Do you know the Sloane manor? Could you drive me there instead?”

“So it's true! You're dating . . . you dated Tom Sloane!” Excited, Dawn corrected herself. “Of course I can.”

The SUV slowly pulled out of the LHS parking lot into the traffic.

“Now it's Daria who’s dating Tom Sloane, I guess,” Jane noted in a surly tone and then exploded. “How could she? It's like Tom was slipping away from me day after day, and I just couldn't do anything about it!”

“Listen, I’m way out of my depth here. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I never will. I just—”

Jane winced. Yesterday—was it only yesterday?—Daria told her the same thing. _I wanted to believe her._

“Now where did I hear that story before?”

“Your friend?” It was an obvious guess.

“She was so convincing. And I believed her. I believed her.” Jane's voice trailed off.

“Look, I don't want to convince anybody. It's just that don’t want anything to do with, ummm, guys who are into chubbies? Single forever.”

“You could lose some weight.” It seemed an obvious thing to say.

“Oh, don't go there. My perfect teenage hormone storm is of a different kind.” Dawn sighed. “My brain is polynomial. My ovaries are polycystic. The syndrome turned out to be pretty severe in my case.”

“I'm sorry, Dawn. I didn't know. Is there a treatment for it?”

“There's nothing to be sorry about. There are pills, but it kinda looks like they don’t work so well. And I'm pretty much used to people going like, 'If only you'd cut down on the buns, cut down on the ribs, yada yada, next thing you'd fit into that Versace green dress!'”

Jane couldn't help but grin at the mental image of Dawn as Jennifer Lopez at the Grammys. _I did sketch her for fun, first as a jack-o'-lantern, then as a Grecian titaness holding the scales of justice, but this would be too much._

“I love to polish off a focaccia with olives, yeah. Or two,” Dawn added. “What was I talking about, anyway? Okay, the way I think about it, you need to decide quickly how you're gonna be with them.”

“I'll talk to them, yeah. We need to talk it all through.”

“Uh-huh. You should've done it earlier, but what's done is done. It isn't the first time you and Daria having problems, right? That math tutoring thing that fell through—”

“It was my fault! I couldn't keep up with her.” _With Dawn, it's always algebra and trigonometry._

“Then it is her fault too. I don't think she can drop her condescending act that easy. Didn't try at all with you, I guess.”

“You don't like Daria at all, do you?”

Dawn pursed her lips. “There are things that I like in her. She's smart. Always can be counted on to do the right thing—um, most of the time, I guess. Too cynical and sarcastic for my taste. My dad says it's cynics who rule the day now, so she fits right in.”

“What? Dawn, we're the unpopular ones, just in case you forgot.”

“Individualism is in vogue now, just in case you forgot,” Dawn retorted. “Okay, I might be wrong—”

“You ARE wrong!”

“Okay, okay. What I do know is that you and Daria are friends. True friends. Real friends. I would've envied you two, but I've got Angel and Tan.”

“Yeah. And I still want to be friends with Daria,” Jane mumbled.

“Then be friends! It's high school, things happen. It’ll all turn out for the best.”

“Things!” Jane snorted, then fell silent.

* * *

They drove past the walls of Crewe Neck. _Too small for the kind of manors the Sloanes or Graces have._

“How would you like if I were to tutor you in math next year?” Dawn decided to change the subject.

“Um, thanks, but no. I'm hopeless at this. Logarithmic functions, the slope of a line . . . More like the slope of a Lane.”

“It'd be a negative slope,” Dawn chuckled. “Think about it. I don't think Mr. Ewing would flunk you, but why take the risks? I help Angel with math all the time, and you know how she is. I can help you.”

“Not good at school. Not good at keeping boyfriends. What the hell am I good at?” Jane's eyes fogged with tears again.

“Um, arts? Not that I . . . Dad says modern art is pure trash. Sorry, I'm not helping, I know. Anyway, you're smart. That must count for something. And you're good and kind. That must count for something too.”

“Thank you, Dawn. You're so sweet.” _But you're no Daria, and we both know it._ “I'll think about the tutoring thing,” Jane lied.

The gate of Sloane residence loomed on the left.

“Just stop right here, thank you.”

Dawn eased the SUV to the shoulder. “I could wait for you here, just in case he isn't home.”

“No, no, it's okay. I'll walk. Get back to school.” Her ribs had ceased throbbing with pain some time ago.

“Okay, see ya tomorrow.”

Jane's eyes glinted mischievously.

“Just one more thing. Can I, um, borrow a tire iron? A shotgun would be even better.”

“NO!!!”

The girls shared a laugh.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Daria_ and associated characters are property of MTV/Viacom. This is a work of noncommercial fan fiction written and distributed freely without remuneration.
> 
> The author is immensely grateful to Scissors MacGillicutty. 
> 
> Dawn being good at math is borrowed from “True Lies” by The Angst Guy.
> 
> The math teacher's last name was first used by CharlesRB in “The Shadow Education.”


End file.
